


The Meeting

by GalaxyMuse



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 黄金魂 | Saint Seiya: Soul of Gold
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 19:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyMuse/pseuds/GalaxyMuse
Summary: Back from death itself, the world he commanded, only to wind up in some freezing cold town in the middle of nowhere. Only the sweet comfort of his friend alcohol could soothe hisweary soul. But with every vice comes its consequence as he would see the next morning, alleviated only by the kindness of a stranger.





	The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This was a submission to heavenly---dove on tumblr's blog way at the start of my writing career and at the onset of Soul Of Gold. Hope you all like it!

His headache felt like a hammer striking against his brain. Struggling to open his eyes, the pungent smell of garbage assailed his nostrils. 

“I guess I went a little overboard again…” Deathmask thought, rolling over on his side. Ever since they had been mysteriously revived in Asgard, he had decided to spend his second life at the bottom of a glass. It’s where he thought he belonged. After all, he was a horrible example of a saint, so who would care what happened to him?

He struggled to sit up in the alley where he had passed out. Every now and then people would walk by him, shaking their heads in shame and pity. 

“The hell are you looking at? …Yeah that’s right, keep walking!” he would spit at them. He was already judging himself harshly enough, and he didn’t need the eyes of others on him. 

All he really wanted was food. He rummaged through his pockets and sighed. No cash. He must have spent it all the night before. 

His stomach growled and he closed his eyes again; the dawn’s rays only intensified his hangover migraine. He’d need to recover from it if he was going to win the next game of poker for cash. 

As he tried to recoup with his eyes shut, he heard something drop in front of him. Opening his eyes, he saw a small brown satchel. Whatever was in it, it had a heavenly aroma. 

“Wha?” he asked out loud. He heard soft footsteps on the cobblestone, turning his head to see where the noise was coming from. A woman in a brown dress was walking away from him. Her short brown hair was in a loose ponytail. 

“H-hey!” he called out to her.

The girl paused and turned around. “Oh! You were awake!” she chimed with surprise.

“Y-yeah…um, I think you dropped something.” Deathmask said, picking up the bag. He somehow found the coordination to stand up and stumbled over to her.

“Oh, that? No, that’s not mine.” She replied with a smile. Getting a closer look, Deathmask was able to see her light green eyes. 

“O-okay then…” he said, snapping himself out of staring. Though she was plain-faced, Deathmask couldn’t help but find her lovely to behold.

“Helena! Come on, we need to open the shop!!” a small child cried a few yards away from them.

“Ah! Coming! Tell Geordi to get the roses ready!” the woman cried back. She then let out a few hard coughs and gasped for breath.

 

“Are you ok?!” Deathmask asked, placing a hand on her shoulder as she held her stomach. 

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s been worse,” Helena replied, recovering from her fit. “I hope you enjoy whatever’s in there!” she said cheerfully, turning to leave. 

“Well whoever made it, they must be a great cook. It smells wonderful.” Deathmask said flirtatiously. He had no idea he was even capable of flattery, yet here he was doing it.

Helena turned back to him for a moment, the blush on her pale cheeks clearly showing though. “I guess they must be.” she responded, trying to talk over the grumble of her own stomach. 

“HELENA! MARY’S STUCK IN THE SUNFLOWER BARREL AGAIN!” the same child shouted with urgency. 

“I have to go, I’m sorry. But my shop is over that way if you’d like to visit later.” She pointed to the end of the alleyway. “Just head out that way and turn right.”

Deathmask nodded. “S-sure, see you later.” What was that hot feeling in his cheeks? Why was his heart pumping so fast at the idea that he could see this woman again? The confusing emotions raised so many questions in the Cancer saint’s head.

Helena smiled and hurried off, waving goodbye before she turned out of the alley.

Deathmask waved back with a silly grin on his face. He opened the satchel and found food inside, wolfing it down. It was absolutely delicious. It must have come from her; she seemed wonderful enough to make food this good. 

Her kindness had filled him with a brand new feeling, better than any buzz he could get at the bar. And he was bound to find a way to repay her for it.


End file.
